


They Eat Them With Their Leaves

by GotMurderOnMyAgenda



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Also yes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flashbacks, Gen, I gave the bedrock a canon reason to be there, I just think its a neat idea :), Im gonna be real here this is just me rambling, Insanity, Non-Human Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Poetic Justice, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Regret, Sam's Prison is Terrifying dude, no beta we die like my motivation to do my homework
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28551762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotMurderOnMyAgenda/pseuds/GotMurderOnMyAgenda
Summary: Karma comes for all of us, some later than others. But it arrives.And it will take and take until you are but a husk of what you once were.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	They Eat Them With Their Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> George might be ooc because i don't write him much! Also it's a bit rushed but I tried lmao.
> 
> Prompt: angst of any kind (e.g torture angst, death angst) or very wholesome fluff, preferably Dream Team for angst (I'm a Dreamcentric fan), and SBI for fluff (wholesome brother or dad moments make me; ugh ;-;), 
> 
> TWs:  
> -mentions of starvation  
> -self-harm (our boy goes a bit insane)  
> -isolation (?)

The sound of footsteps was something he hadn't heard in a long time. 

He didn't dare look up, remaining seated with his back to the wall and arms resting on his knees. He doesn't remember the last time he moved from this position. He doesn't even remember what day it is. 

The footsteps stop at his cell, the smell of a cooked steak wafting through as the door opens. He twitches, but doesn't get up. They don't usually give him meat. Rather giving him stews and baked potatoes. Even those aren't personally delivered, instead being dropped into his cell from some opening hidden to the naked eye. He hasn't had fresh meat in so long.

"How's your vacation?" A monotone voice asks him as the steak is tossed towards his feet. 

He chuckles, the sound raspy and _wrong._ "Fantastic, the room service is great."

A snort is all that answers him as the door shuts, but there are no footsteps walking away. He tilts his head, neck creaking like a door that needs to be greased. There is silence on the other side. His ~~guard~~ visitor isn't a man of many words and He only speaks when he knows what to say. The stalemate has an odd tension to it. 

A loud voice, garbled by the walls of his cell breaks the tension and he stills. His ~~guard~~ visitor huffs in amusement. 

"That's my cue." His voice is bland, footsteps starting to back away. 

"Wait."

The footsteps stop. 

"How are they?" He whispers, showing vulnerability for the first time he's been here. He feels eyes on him yet his head still stays bowed. His hand twitches, wanting to adjust a mask that isn't there—hasn't been there for a long time now—but the movement is aborted.

Mask or no, no one's seen his face for years. Only the guards visit him and even then his face is cast in shadows. The ones with the privilege of having seen it have cut all ties with him, the only exception being ~~Techno his visitor~~ his guard. It's a bitter feeling. 

"He's in Dry Waters, they all are." 

He says nothing in reply, having got all the information he needed. ~~Techno~~ His guard huffs, the sound of footsteps fading away as he's left alone once again. The yelling gets louder in volume but he still can't hear the conversation through the thick walls. 

_A loud, carefree yell. Tackled hugs. Arguments and play fights that he tried his best to mediate._

He flinches, curling up a bit more. 

Maybe it's good he has no visitors.

______________

He gets a cake one day. 

It's rushed, spots of frosting missing and the message on top smeared. The cake itself tastes fine, if a bit burnt. He can detect bits of redstone dust accidentally mixed into the desert. It's obvious the person had no prior experience in baking. There are no candles either. No warmth in this cold cell. 

It's not like he deserves it anyway. 

He appreciates the thought ~~Sam~~ the warden put into it though. He shifts around, wincing at the twinge in his back as he gets more comfortable on the sorry excuse of a blanket acting as his bed. 

(Sometimes he wonders why there's no bed in this cell. It doesn't seem like something ~~Sam his friend~~ the warden would do. 

Then he realizes that he designed this specific cell. 

And he wonders no longer.)

The movement makes his arms twinge, bedrock shackles _(two pieces held by the only people to cut off his strings. Fitting that a gift from his sister would be used against him)_ cutting into his skin. He winces, feeling the jagged edges of the shackles etching more wounds onto his arms. 

_He feels the sword in his shoulder. Dark eyes flicker with surprise as he detonates the TNT, taking the whole nation out. The explosion nearly takes him too, their leader screaming as he knocks him into the blast radius._

He still has the burn scars from the explosion, hidden underneath his hoodie. But the pain is welcome. It gives him something to focus on when all he can remember is broken goggles and a burnt headband flying into the sky. The battle was one he never expected. ~~Quackity~~ The duck was bloodthirsty, too much for his taste so he took precautions. El Rapids was barely built when the explosion took everything away. It reminded him of L'manberg in a way. The only ones to survive were him and his attacker. 

He remembers the feeling of satisfaction. The aura of accomplishment when the land was never rebuilt, the people of El Rapids taking to squatting in New L'manberg. He remembers the crazed grin on his face when he flicked the lever, the pain in the President's eyes as he watched his land burn. 

~~He remembers the hated glare sent his way by an old friend. The disappointed frown and sad eyes directed at him from a dethroned king.~~

**~~He remembers turning two lives to one.~~ **

He peers at his cell and his lips curl up into a bitter smile. The cold walls. The chilling loneliness. Obsidian as far the eye can see. Chained in this room with an unbreakable material, he realizes.

The prison may not be his, but this room is. Before he resided here—before this room had a permanent occupant—it was always his. The walls had his touch, the chilling cold reminiscent of his cruelty.

He peers at his cell and all he can remember is the sense of satisfaction he felt tearing down a nation. 

______________

It's been 2 years when he gets another visitor. He knows this because of the tally marks littering the floor. Tally marks made with his shackles because he needed to focus on something. He needed a semblance of reality to ground him. Tally marks made when he was done screaming his lungs out. Tally marks made when his head would bleed as he bashed it into the nearby wall. Tally marks made when he would respawn in this godforsaken hell after he starved himself, after he stabbed himself with claws that would flicker in place of his hands, after he bashed his head too hard. 

(In the quiet moments, he wonders if this is what Wilbur felt when he was going insane down in Pogtopia.)

The moment he hears the footsteps he stills, the screeching of the shackles as they drag across the ground quieting. They stop outside the door, hesitating. He counts to fifty-one before the door opens. He flinches away from the light that dashes in, greedily conquering any shadow it comes across. 

He hides away in the corner, making as little sound as possible and physically stopping himself from turning his head towards the visitor. He knows who it is. How can he not?

He spent years listening to those footsteps. 

"Nothing to say? That's new," ~~His friend~~ The visitor scoffs, he can hear the cold fury in his tone. "Usually you'd taunt us, all talk and confidence. What happened to that? Does the fierce Admin feel _remorse?"_

The sarcasm dripping from his words make Him shudder. He says nothing, content to stay in his little corner as more insults are spat at him. 

_A trembling hand. A dropped sword. Bloody lips and dull eyes._

He's tired. 

"Can't even look at me? What? Are you going to kill me too? Just like you killed _him?"_

_A blood-curdling scream pierced the air. His mask cracked, barely hanging on from hit of the sword as the body dropped. He remained frozen, even as two fiances sobbed over his fallen ~~friend **brother**~~ foe._

"The great _Dream_ , fallen from grace. You deserve to rot in this hell for what you did to us." With that his last ~~friend partner in crime brother~~ visitor walks away, not looking back even once. He lifts his head, watching the man leave. His head is missing something. 

_"What's this?" Sapnap peers over Dreams shoulder to look at the enchanted goggles, as he shoves him away laughing._

_"Its a gift for George! You know how's always bitching about his eyesight. Got this from a trade, cost a shit ton so he better be happy about it."_

_"Aw Dreamie! You never got me something special!"_

_He puts the younger in headlock, laughing as the other yells and screams for help from Bad._

The last connection has been cut and the prisoner loses his voice for days in the breakdown that comes after the sound of footsteps finally disappears. He has no one. He is no one, an Admin without his members, a God without his people. 

A man without his brothers.

_"What's your name?" The shorter human asks him. He hums in confusion._

_"Name?"_

_"Yeah!" The other nods, grinning. "What do we call you?"_

_The forest sprite tilts his head, considering. He never really had a 'name' before. Not one in the humans' tongue anyway. The two seem to pick up on this, the younger looking baffled._

_"You don't have a name?" At the shake of the sprites head, he hums before snapping his fingers and pointing at him. "Dream! That's your new name."_

_"Dream? What kind of stupid name is that?" The other human grimaces, his friend squawking in indignation. The two delve into an argument with the air of this being a usual occurrence between them._

_The forest sprite tilts his head the name, testing it out on his tongue. "Dream... I like it."_

_It goes ignored by the two bickering individuals but the newly named Dream laughs at their antics, glad that these specific humans stumbled into his forest._

Dream stopped existing the moment he dethroned one of his best friends. He stopped existing when he chose plastic discs over a friendship that lasted for years. He stopped existing when he was willing to blow up a land his brothers were proud of. 

Dream stopped existing when he was responsible for all three of Sapnap's deaths.

**Author's Note:**

> OIWHRGOVERG THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DONE _5 DAYS AGO_ BUT SCHOOL WAS KICKING MY ASS SORRY FOR THE DELAY LMAO. 
> 
> HOPE YOU LIKE YOU'RE SECRET SANTA VANESSA._.BUN


End file.
